Maybe
by AbundantiaTheWitch
Summary: Aunt May is left looking after Peter. It's difficult to mind a child when you've never so much as had a fish before but it can't be that bad. Can it?
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

They say that everything happens for a reason. Peter used to think that that was stupid. If everything was meant to happen, then that meant that his mum was supposed to die. But then again, he supposed, it hasn't been all bad. Aunt May looks after him very well and Ned is fun to hang out with. So maybe they're right – whoever 'they' are. Maybe it's true. So maybe, just maybe, everything happens for a reason.

– 0 –

PETER'S POV

Mom is singing. I love it when she sings. I join in, my childish soprano matching with her lower pitch. Mom turns around, smiling. We sing as we do mundane things like washing the dishes. When I was little, it was how Mom got me to stop crying - at least, that's what she told me.

 _If I ever lose my hands,_

 _Lose my plough, lose my lands,_

 _If I ever lose my hands,_

 _Oh if, I won't have to work no more._

We continue this for a while, whirling around the room. It's times like this that I remember the best.

– 0 –

I'm sitting in the car now. Mom looks at me. My leg is bouncing with excitement. My friend Ned has a new Lego set and I've been waiting to play with it since three days ago. Mom has been teasing me playfully and I pretend to be offended – "seven-year-olds don't have play dates!" – and look out the window. Mom is humming softly again. Her favourite song.

 _If I ever lose my eyes,_

 _If my colours all run dry,_

 _If I ever lose my eyes,_

 _Oh if, I won't have to cry no more._

I immediately perk up and join in. If I had my way, I'd stay in the car with Mom forever.

– 0 –

Peter grasped Aunt May's hand tightly. His eyes were shining, but no tears fell. He was brave and she had to be strong, even if she didn't feel it. Most seven-year-olds would be sobbing if their mother had just died. Richard Parker had died just before Peter was born but Mary had raised him wonderfully. Peter was going to be raised by May now. She didn't know how she was going to raise him. She doesn't know the first thing about children.

Peter tugged softly on her hand and she gently led him inside. When he was in his new room, he finally let out a choked sob. That was the breaking point. Sobs wracked his small frame but he stuck a fist into his mouth and glanced nervously at the door. He didn't want to worry Aunt May. He didn't want to be a bother. He didn't want anyone else to leave him.

So many thanks to my beta Sop12345d for helping me revise these chapters.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

Peter never sang anymore. That was something that Aunt May noticed in the beginning. She remembers that he used to _love_ singing. He could never stop and she remembers him laughing. He rarely laughs as well. Neither of them has felt much like laughing.

– 0 –

Even at the age of eight, Aunt May noticed that Peter took after his father. He loved science, and although he wasn't allowed use anything serious in the school, like chemicals, the teacher was kind enough to let him stay inside at lunch time. May suspected there was more to it, but she trusted Peter to tell her if he was being bullied. Not that he said much anymore.

Peter had lived with May for over a year and he hadn't spoken nearly as much as any other child would. She brought him to the clinic where she worked. Dr. Connors had told her that he was showing no signs of damage and would talk when he was ready. She hoped that was soon.

– 0 –

May was shaking. Aliens were everywhere and she had to protect Peter. The Avengers were doing all they could to stop the aliens – she thinks she heard someone call them Chitauri – and help people to safety. Just as she was running to safety, she felt Peter's hand get torn away from her's. He was sprawled out on the ground, clutching his Bucky bear. He had become attached to it recently and loved it to pieces.

May rushed back to help him up just as a car was flung across the road and cut her off. Smoke filled her lungs and she couldn't see more than a foot in front of her. A bright gold and red blur flooded her vision. It landed beside her and she felt a hand press against her's. She saw Peter beside her. She hugged him so tight that she thought he would snap in two. Peter pulled away and looked at who May now realised was Tony Stark.

"Thank you," Peter whispered. His voice was scratchy with misuse. May's eyes were watering and she felt so happy that he had talked.

"No problem, kid."

"Mr. Stark!" Tony glanced back at May. "Thank you."

Tony nodded and flew off to fight more aliens and May pulled Peter into the building where the other civilians were hiding.

– 0 –

The Avengers were exhausted. They stumbled into a floor in Tony's tower. Steve immediately collapsed onto a couch that looked too fancy to be furniture. Clint flopped onto the floor, too tired to make it to the couch. Natasha, although exhausted, made her way to a chair and draped her legs over the side. Tony was focused on JARVIS and was asking him about the battle.

It was later that night when they were all sharing stories about themselves that Tony told the group about the boy that he saved. Steve felt a pang when Tony told them about the Bucky bear but kept listening.

"JARVIS, look up everything you can find on the kid."

Tony wanted to know more about this Peter Parker.

Thanks to Sop12345d for helping me with this fic


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

As soon as the bell rang, Peter jumped out of his chair, shoved his books into his bag and headed to his locker. He was just closing the metal door when he heard someone behind him.

"Peter! Hey, guess what? Mom bought me this thing that you make out of LEGO. I've never really used it before but it'll be fun to try out. You wanna come over later?" Ned was practically out of breath from his enthusiasm.

"Sorry, Ned, but May wants me to pick up some stuff for lunch later. But that still sounds really cool!"

Of course, with the Parker luck, Flash Thompson was nearby and heard everything.

"Seriously, Penis Parker? You're 12. Grow up and stop playing dolls with Ned." Flash laughed and stomped off.

Peter just rolled his eyes. Ned looked warily at him.

"Come on, Peter. Can't we just leave?" Ned whispered to him.

"Yeah. Let's go." Peter began to walk off with Ned. The halls were emptying and there were only him and Ned left. It was a long day.

– 0 –

When they went outside, it was raining. Ned ran towards his car.

"Are you sure you don't want a lift, Peter?" He called back. But of course, Peter refused and said that he'd rather walk. Once Ned and his mother left, Peter headed towards the store. He grabbed a few items and left quickly. The rain had let up slightly.

He was walking back to the apartment when, what he felt like calling it at the time, a torrential downpour began. He was passing the school and had a brilliant idea to wait in there. Basketball practice should still be on so it was open.

He was right and the school was open. He set down the shopping bag and waited by his locker. The basketball team passed him so he knew practice was over. They walked straight past him. He was practically invisible.

Scratch that. Not invisible. One person noticed him. _Flash._ Great. Why did he have to have the 'oh so brilliant plan' to wait in the school? He considered leaving but it was too late by now.

Flash strutted up to him and grabbed his collar. He felt himself being slammed against his locker.

"That was for showing me up in front of Liz," he growled.

"Come on, dude, that was two days ago. And it's not my fault she hates you." Peter knew he was screwed as soon as the words left his mouth.

Flash threw his fist into Peter's nose and Peter attempted to block his face. He wasn't able to stop Flash and knew he wasn't going to make it any easier on himself by stopping him.

– 0 –

Peter carefully walked through the kitchen and headed to his room. Once he was sure May wasn't home, he shut the door and dumped his bag on the floor. He then remembered the shopping he bought. He poked his head out the door and dashed to the kitchen. He put the bags away and went to the bathroom. He knew Aunt May would kill Flash if she knew he did this.

His nose had thankfully stopped bleeding by now, but it was bruised and he could see the beginnings of a black eye. At least it was Friday.

Peter hid in his room all evening, and when May called him for dinner, he said he wasn't feeling well and went to bed.

– 0 –

Peter woke up at 10 o'clock the next morning and slowly got out of bed for breakfast. He trekked into the kitchen, poured some cereal, sat down on a stool and began to eat. With his eyes practically closed and his mind half asleep, he didn't notice May come into the room until she ran over with a cry.

"Oh my God, Peter, what happened? Who do I need to kill?" she stared into his eyes and Peter felt uncomfortable.

"No one, Aunt May, I'm fine." He knew she wouldn't believe him but he didn't want her to worry.

"No way, Peter. You will tell me who did this right now or I swear to God..."

He bit his lip. "Flash," he muttered. He didn't think that she'd heard him, but she suddenly jumped up with a furious look on her face. Peter almost felt sorry for Flash. _Almost._

Thanks to the wonderful Sop12345d for being my beta :D


	4. Chapter 4

Peter glanced at the clock. He'd been waiting almost two hours for news about Aunt May. The ward was dull and pale, decorated with only creams and beige. The hard plastic chair was uncomfortable, no matter what way he sat in it.

He looked down the hall. There were nurses whispering urgently, sneaking feverish looks at him. "The poor boy, only 14 years old and suffering through losing everyone he knows." At least, that's what Peter imagined they were saying. When one of them began to walk towards him, he knew he was right. He was alone.

Peter looked around his new room. His unpacked bag lay beside him. He sighed and picked it up, shoving into the closet with his clothes. He had a few hours before leaving. The "new family" he was to live with had decided to send him to therapy.

He moved in with the Grant family. They were nice, he supposed, but they didn't compare to May. They sent him to talk to someone to help him recover. Since then, he'd reverted back to not talking. They were told that he'll talk when he's ready and not to push him about it. Peter grabbed his new shoes. It was time to go.

Peter sat in an armchair that faced his therapist. She was a kind lady with a trusting face. She would talk to Peter. He liked her because she didn't expect him to talk. She would tell him things and he would listen. She would ask him to think of the answers in his head and write them down at home. If he was comfortable enough at the time, he would bring a notepad and scrawl them down there and then. The only part that he didn't like was that she read his answers. She told him that it was helping him. He wasn't so sure.

"Peter, how do you feel?" The session always started with that question. How do you feel? There was no wrong answer apparently. Peter wasn't so sure. How did he _feel?_ Shouldn't it be obvious? How would Miss Therapist feel if she came home from school to find her Aunt, her only living relative, presumed dead in the kitchen? What then? He wanted to scream but the whispers had stolen his voice.

A knock came at his door.

"Peter, I'm dropping Kate off at swimming practice. I'll be back later, okay?" Laura called through the door. She didn't expect an answer and Peter didn't give one.

He rolled over and stared blearily at his clock. 8 AM. He'd been living here for a few months now and his room had a more personal feel. He stumbled into the bathroom to look for his pill bottle. Laura and Thomas had a few foster kids and preferred any medication they were on to be handed out directly. Of course, they trusted their children, but they had to be careful.

Peter's allowance for the day was laid out for him. He swallowed and went to have a shower. His therapist, Dr. Bromwell, had prescribed him with antidepressants. Peter was hoping they would help him. He didn't spend too long in the shower. He overheard Dr. Bromwell tell Laura and Tom that she believed he subconsciously – or maybe consciously – tried to appease them. He wouldn't anger them for fear he would be told to leave. Peter didn't know what to think of that.

...

Beta'd by the lovely Sop12345d


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